


Quartet Plus Another One

by gomushroom



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hair Washing, M/M, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: Sho needs a haircut so he goes to Matsumoto’s barbershop.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This had been put on the back burner of my WIP for way too long; for you, Mi, with lots of love! This was also a (welcomed) distraction and perhaps incoherent at some point but I need to put this up and move on. :D
> 
> R-rated for sensual touches, hair strokes, and Matsumoto Jun's sexy mole.

/0/

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

“I’m damn sure,” Nino dismisses the concern and dials a number.

 

/1/

Sho finds himself in front of a small two-story building and stands there amazed for a good minute. It wasn’t actually what he thought it would be, the shop seems to be small and a little bit too fancy for him, he should say. But he’s here already plus he has a schedule to keep. It has taken him longer than what he calculated to find this place. Also, stellar recommendation he got from Aiba-san, pointing out the fact that he needs to stop hacking his own hair, is not to be ignored.

.

No bell chimes when he pushed the door open, but then Sho catches a familiar low tune. Is that _Shiseikatsu_? He walks further inside where soft citrus scent fills the room. On corners of the room, he catches sight of candles pleasantly burning, before a man comes out from the back room.

“Welcome,” stopping in front of Sho, the man bows politely.

“Ah, I saw the open sign.” Sho points to the door. “Aiba-san sent me here, so I just came right in. I hope it’s okay to just…”

“It’s completely okay.” The man smiles at him. Black surely suits the man, with his crisp black shirt and some odd pair of asymmetrical cut jeans, Sho smiles back.

“My name is Matsumoto,” the man continued, this time with his hand gesturing Sho to come further inside the shop. “What can I do for your service?”

Sho could see the row of comfortable chairs; the scent of the candles grows comfortably stronger and relaxing. “Ah, I actually only have little time today, so I was wondering if…”

“I understand. We do offer full service here for all parts of the hair-trimming package. That would include shaving and massage.” The man nods, swiftly directing Sho toward a chair. “But since I see you are in rather a hurry, why don’t we skip those services and just get your hair cut?”

“I’m sorry.” Sho finds himself apologizing. Massage sounds heavenly and even if the idea letting someone hover over his face and do the shaving for him sounds a bit terrifying, he’s kind of willing to try. After all, the entire entire package includes massage and shaving. “And it’s Sho.”

“It’s not a problem, Sho-san. If you can sit over here, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Matsumoto leads him to a chair, positioning Sho, and nods to fetch his cart. "Let's wash your hair first.”

The melody stops and silence hangs a while before a new tune Sho doesn’t recognize begins.

“You can just lie down and relax.” Matsumoto softly pats Sho’s shoulder, draping towels before motioning him to lie with his head above the washing basin.

“I-I’ve never done before.” Sho awkwardly shifts, finding the ceiling distractingly soothing.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything.”

Sho tries to relax as Matsumoto’s fingers thread his hair, raking through his hair, setting them all to the back. Then he hears the sound of water and closes his eyes.

“Tell me if this is too hot,” Matsumoto says as he soaks Sho’s hair wet.

Sho hums noncommittally and hopes he conveys his relaxed state of mind at the moment, and would soon leave Matsumoto to do absolutely anything to his scalp if it feels this good.

Matsumoto paused a while, shutting the water shower.

Then magic happens.

Sho has barely finished inhaling, and appreciating something that smells really good when Matsumoto’s hands spreads the shampoo and starts to lather his hair up.

Then another magic happens.

Matsumoto starts to massage his scalp.

“ _Oh_.”

“Too much pressure?”

“No, not at all,” Sho whispers his answer. “It's perfect.”

.

Sho waits, absently smoothening his jeans, now that he is sitting in front of a large mirror after the breathtaking shampoo session, seeing the reflection of Matsumoto bending over the counter behind him to flip few switches, and pressing some buttons. He certainly didn't know that an asymmetrical pair of jeans could do such wonder to that gorgeous ass.

Clearing his throat and trying not to stare, he asks, "so do you handle this shop alone?"

"Most of the time, yes.” Matsumoto comes back bringing some towels and paper strips. “I have assistants on Saturdays. But other days I’m on my own."

“I see.”

He lets Matsumoto place towels and dresses him with paper strips. He tries to direct his gaze at a point two centimeters above Matsumoto’s reflection, and fails because Matsumoto was turning his back once again to strap his scissor pouch.

“Do you have any style you want in particular?”

A half beat and his eyes are still fixed on Matsumoto’s ass. “Yours seems nice," Sho blurts out, only to realize the implication, before correcting himself and aim his gaze, for real this time, two centimeters above Matsumoto’s reflection. "I mean your hair. Your hairstyle."

"Why, thank you." Matsumoto somehow blinks in surprise and smiles back politely at the compliment.

He most likely caught either him staring at that ass or the implication, Sho wonders. He definitely needs to later internally scold himself for not being able to control himself within the presence of a man who will give him a proper haircut. A gorgeous man who will give him a proper haircut and has officially offered him massage and shave service though—the last part should count.

“So, no style in particular?”

“Ah, not really. I don’t particularly know about any style,” Sho shyly admits. Matsumoto means business and he shouldn’t be overly excited at all this. “I was thinking that you should know best. After all you came with a stellar recommendation.”

Matsumoto nods, seeming a little bit proud. “Very well then.”

 

/2/

For the first time in a long time, Sho realizes that it takes a long time for his hair grown enough so he has solid reason to get to the salon again. It has been a month but he doesn’t think that he could say that he needs a haircut. His front bang hasn’t even reached his eyelashes.

Matsumoto Jun, he reads silently. Every time he finds himself taking out and staring at the card Matsumoto gave him the last time, the experience floats back into his mind. And every time he keeps on asking, why doesn’t he need a haircut now?

Also, Sho thinks the fancy card was just plain questionable. A simple white one only with limited information of Matsumoto’s name, which he already knows, the salon address, which he, again, already knows, and the salon phone number. Why, simply why, no personal phone number?

Not that he would call though, but just in case.

.

Instead Sho goes to the neighborhood pharmacy, asking for some miraculous shampoo that would make his hair grow faster; The nice guy in charge was suspiciously helpful.

Two weeks later, when he realizes that the product made his hair limp, unhealthy and started to falling off, he knows he has to swallow his pride.

Or was it just an excuse?

.

It’s still the same soft citrus scent, it’s still the same rows of short candles, but no one welcomes him this time.

A minute later, Sho’s still waiting, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, checking the open sign and making sure that it is indeed open. Where is that guy?

“Sorry, but we’re not actually open.” Matsumoto finally comes out of the back room hurriedly before he stops short. “Ah, you’re back,”

“Not open? But the sign says…”

Matsumoto gives a brief smile. “I know. I was just going to flip it.”

“Ah.” There goes his plan, Sho sighs.

Matsumoto keeps on smiling, watching Sho getting uncomfortable at the information. “Are you coming for a haircut?”

“Not really. I was thinking….” Sho doesn’t actually know what he was thinking but he wants to go to the shop and now that he’s there, now that Matsumoto is there, and with the shop not being open, it seems like the choice is limited if not nonexistent. Then the next moment, Sho lets out the truth, the only choice he finds acceptable. “I was thinking perhaps I can meet you.”

Sho half expects a snort or a dismissal or something even worse, while of course he also expects a pleased reaction or something on par with a smile. He certainly doesn’t expect a giggle, a cute embarrassed giggle from Matsumoto; the sound makes butterflies in his stomach flips in the most incredible way.

“Well, you are meeting me right now,” Matsumoto says. He stares at Sho for a long minute after the giggle outburst, amused and with full of questions.

“Yes. We are. Uhm…” Sho sputters, pointing half-heartedly on the closed sign.

There goes another set of Matsumoto giggles and Sho really wants is to let out more incoherent bursts now that he know the result will be glorious.

“Unfortunately I am closing the shop right now because I need to be somewhere else,” Matsumoto says, with a sincere apologetic smile.

“Oh, okay.” Sho sadly nods, averting his eyes and finding a certain spot on the floor interesting. He would have to excuse himself, that’s really unfortunate, there’s anything he could do about the fact.

“You can always come again anytime, you know,” Matsumoto suggests, his tone light and friendly.

Sho suddenly regrets that he didn’t visit sooner but he lifts his face to again meet a smile and couldn’t help to smile back. “I guess so.”

“That’d be best, I suppose.”

Sho knows that he’s being ushered out even if he doesn’t feel that this Matsumoto was throwing him out in a hurry. The guy did say he needs to be somewhere and Sho is probably keeping him from his appointment and it would be rude to keep lingering in the shop. He excuses himself properly. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Jun bows slightly. “I’ll be waiting.”

 

/3/

Four rounds of beer and few pernicious combos with cold sake later, Jun is spilling all the details on the table.

“He smelled so good, like so damn good I wanted to nuzzle his neck and just lick his jaw, like, repeatedly,” he slides his empty glass across the table before sitting back against the chair, sliding dangerously down. He looks up and stares dreamily over the dingy ceiling before closing his eyes. “And that’s before I lather some amazing shampoo on his soft hair.”

No one has the heart, or the guts, to respond to such bold and open statement.

Aiba looks away and waves his hand to the bartender, asking for another bottle of beer. Meanwhile Nino and Ohno are nodding at each other, confirming their silence agreement on the final plan.

“What plan?” Aiba asks; there must be a plan already exchanged even if he only turned his attention away for few seconds.

“The _final_ plan,” Nino answers.

Ohno flashes his thumb up and that ends the conversation about the final plan.

 

/4/

One fine day on Wednesday, Sho takes a time off from work, telling Aiba-san that he has private matter he should deal with and heads to the shop.

This time he does take his time, partially to calm his head and try to come up with a decent excuse shall Matsumoto ask him what exactly he was doing coming to the shop on a Wednesday afternoon. He stops when he gets on the corner of the alley. One or two couples pass by in a hurry, rushing to get to their destination, let it be some new posh clothing shops, or something else.

As he arrives at the front of the building he realizes that he hasn’t been noticing details until now.

The shop on the ground floor of Matsumoto barbershop turns out is a weird joint shop of game console and fishing rods repair shops.

Sho wonders who the hell needs to repair their game console since anyone would have bought a new set instead of having their old repaired. He wonders even more to see the flashy fishing rods banner, with a drawing of cartoon of old man waving his rod happily inviting others to come and stopping by.

.

Sho doesn’t recognize the slow jazzy song this time but the soft citrus scent, now familiar and longed for, welcomes him.

Matsumoto is sitting behind the counter as he looks up to find Sho standing at the door. His eyes lit up in recognition and some thing else Sho couldn’t say at this point before he stands up to greet him.

“You’re back.”

Sho offers a smile, glad that his worry about showing up randomly in the middle of the week doesn’t come up along with courtesy greeting.

“Yes.”

“And now that we have time, I presume.” Matsumoto smiles wider, angling his head a bit, asking for confirmation.

Sho nods.

“Very well. What can I do for your service today, Sho-san?”

Sho finds himself a bit uncomfortable on being so obvious but he is here now for a reason and he doesn’t want to waste his chance. “I was thinking on having that having my hair washed since I don’t think that I need a haircut or a shave. Yet.”

“I understand.”

Matsumoto is flashing a more powerful welcome smile at him and Sho fights the rising warmth on his cheek to no avail.

“You can put your jacket and bag over here then please take a seat, and I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Sho sits at the same chair he sat last time and waits.

Matsumoto hums as he places towels on Sho’s shoulder and scoots his stool closer.

Sho closes his eyes when Matsumoto’s fingers thread his hair. Next will be the water running and the magic massage, but before that Sho needs to say what he has practiced on his way to the shop.

“Uhm,”

Matsumoto pauses, the sound of running water stop. When Sho opens his eyes to ask, Matsumoto’s face hovers above him. Is that a mole below the lips? And why the first thing he focuses on is the lips?

“Something wrong?” Matsumoto blinks with concern.

Sho is the one who giggles, as he tries to shake his head. “No. Nothing’s wrong. I was trying to say something.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jun then disappears from Sho’s vision, going back to adjust and prepare the water.

“No, please don’t be sorry.” Sho’s eyes try to follow Jun’s movement but it makes him dizzy so he closes his eyes again. Perhaps it will give him the courage to just ask the question.

“It’s just, I was wondering…”

Jun begins soaking Sho’s hair wet. “Yes?”

All vagueness be damned, but Sho couldn’t phrase the lingering question better. “Is this okay for you?”

“This?” Matsumoto asks, as he shuts the water shower and begins to spread a liberal amount of shampoo. When Sho doesn’t answer, he starts to lather Sho’s hair up.

“ _This_ ,” Sho whispers.

Matsumoto leans forward and begins massaging Sho’s scalp, slowly at first then with ideal pressure. Sho’s hums at every rub and knead, his sense feasting on the sensation of Matsumoto’s fingers on his scalp, on his forehead, on his nape.

“Yes. This,” Sho whispers again.

Matsumoto finishes his massage. He then runs the water for rinsing, smoothing Sho’s soapy hair before holding the sides of Sho’s head firmly and comes to his line of vision again.

With the sound of water running, Sho opens his eyes in slight confusion and finds Matsumoto’s lips smiling. “Huh?”

“Just want to tell you that I’m going to rinse your hair now,” Jun calmly says, “and it’s okay. _This_ is okay.”

Sho blinks before a wide grin spreads on his face. He nods, feeling Matsumoto’s thumbs caressing behind his ears. Then it was gone, but his smile lingers and he closes his eyes again. “Good.”

.

Matsumoto walks him to the door. “I’ll be waiting for your next visit,” he says before bowing slightly.

Sho bows back, feeling refreshed and satisfied from the service and at the same time a bit sad because there seems like nothing else can be said at this point.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Matsumoto replies.

Sho heads to the door, clutching his bag, deliberately slowing his pace so he could stay longer in the shop.

Sensing Sho’s reluctance, Matsumoto steps closer. “Let’s make that appointment for shaving then.”

“What?”

“An appointment. Say, for shaving or another haircut in the near future?”

“Oh, yes, shaving. I would need shaving. Yes. Yes, I’ll have that appointment for shaving, please.”

“And when would you like to have that appointment?”

Sho flips his mental files as quick as he could possible do before settling on a date. “In two weeks?”

Jun smiles politely but his eyes sparkle lively. “Very well. I’ll see you in two weeks then.”

“I’ll see you.”

 

/5/

“Now that we’re all here, don’t you want to order something to drink?” Aiba asks.

Letting out a long giggle while staring into space, Jun shakes his head.

“Or you want something to eat instead?” he tries again.

Exchanging glances with Ohno, deflecting the accusing stare Aiba throws at him, Nino settles uncomfortably on his seat and tries to deal with the situation.

“Or you want sit there all night, helplessly staring into space, ignoring us three and just daydream about the man with the soft hair, who smells good and whose jaw you want to lick repeatedly.”

Aiba elbows him, “Nino!”

Jun starts humming.

 

/6/

Matsumoto laughs for a full minute after Sho entered the shop sporting a gruff, looking like, and indeed, he hasn’t shaved for a week.

“I was thinking…” Sho begins, only to be interrupted by another set of laugh again, this time Matsumoto has his hands covering his face.

“I was…”

“I’m truly sorry…” Matsumoto turns to Sho to immediately turns his head away again, trying to contain himself and still failing.

Soon it would be not funny and Sho will have to deal with his surfacing irritation. Yet, isn’t to be un-scruffy the exact purpose of shaving? He could only plan that much.

“I’m truly truly sorry,”

“I never thought you can laugh like that.”

Matsumoto wheezes the last hitch of laugh and turns to Sho. He was about to laugh again when his eyes finally meet Sho’s eyes.

“I’m very sorry.” Matsumoto holds back a snort. “I don’t know what got into me.”

Sho still stands in the hall, both uneasy and now with a forced smile. He is unexpectedly happy to see Matsumoto breaking his own cool image but he doesn’t know what to make of it yet.

“I do have an appointment for shaving today, right?”

“You do.” Still trying to compose himself, Matsumoto nods weakly. “I’ve been very rude.”

“Yes. you certainly have.”

“I can’t apologize enough, but you were…”

“I was…?” Sho prompts with a smile.

Matsumoto takes a deep breath, finally appear to be back to his suave and composed self. “Rather cute.”

Sho was stunned for a half second, before grinning from ear to ear.

It’s Matsumoto’s turn to stand awkwardly as he mumbled his welcome and direction; what he could do for the service today and how Sho should directly sit at one of the chair and he would be there in a minute with his equipment belt.

.

 

It turns out Sho needed to sit on another chair, not his usual, the one on the far corner.

Matsumoto comes with a towel and drapes it on Sho’s shoulder efficiently before he’s walking away to fetch his tray. Sho stares at his reflection on the mirror, feeling a little bit nervous because having a hair cut is one thing while having someone shaved your two-week facial hair is another.

Matsumoto comes back and drapes another towel on his front side.

“Just relax,” Matsumoto says, securing two towels before meeting Sho’s eyes over at the mirror.

Sho keeps staring at the mirror, at Matsumoto who’s no longer giggly, at the offered reassurance, for a while before nodding.

“Let’s get you comfortable first.” Matsumoto then reclines the chair and directs him to lie back on the chair. “I’m going to put hot towels on your face and you should tell me if they are too hot.”

Sho closes his eyes when Matsumoto wraps his face in hot towels and lets out a long deep sigh.

“Let keep these here for a few minute and then we can begin.”

Sho flutters his eyes close again after a while. For some reason the citrus scent is stronger on this part of the shop and he doesn’t know if he should be glad with distraction or continue to be nervous. Even so, he can feel Matsumoto moving soundlessly, somewhere near, keeping him relaxed at the same time.

Just when Sho starts to feel his skin soften, pleasant heat spreading on his cheek, Matsumoto takes the towels off.

He opens his eyes lazily to meet Matsumoto smiling down at him. That is definitely a mole under the curve of his lips; he now knows that because the first thing he focuses on will be those lips; his wandering gaze always comes back to those lips.

“Keep your face up for awhile, please,” Matsumoto says, nudging Sho’s chin up gently,

Sho wants to close his eyes, which seems like a normal thing to do but somehow he keeps them open, somehow the sight of Matsumoto concentrating on his gruffy face and the sensation of those fingers touching him, keeping his head steady as they begin are precious.

Matsumoto applies shaving cream generously, the wet tips of the brush moving up on Sho’s cheek. His left hand lightly touches his fringe before swiping the hair aside. Then he moves to Sho’s jaw, his brush moving down, covering the whole area with white thick lather of cream.

Not knowing if it’s the sensation that hits him good or he’s being nervous again, Sho sighs.

“Everything’s okay?” Matsumoto stops his turn to his tray and hovers at Sho’s sight again.

Sho hums his answer, blinking slowly.

“A half a minute,” Matsumoto informs him. He was about to turn away when he realizes something important. “Are you nervous?”

Sho hums his answer again, blinking slower with apparent worry. He is nervous now that he thinks about it; shaving involves a sharp blade and it’s going to go on his neck. Things could happen.

Matsumoto smiles, shifting his stand so he could be within full sight of Sho’s vision. His left hand goes up to Sho’s forehead again to swipe a strand of fringe aside.

Sho wants to smile back at the comforting gesture but he can’t and hums appreciately. He sinks deeper into the chair, letting out a soft exhale. Only by then he realizes music is no longer drifted around the shop; he now can hear his own breathing and if he tries hard, Matsumoto’s too.

Then after Matsumoto disappeared from his vision, Sho feels the bare cold blade gliding over his left cheek and the warm tips of Matsumoto’s fingers flutter on his temple. He takes a careful breath in as another glide goes down toward his chin.

When Matsumoto finished shaving his cheek and scooted further to deal with his jaw, Sho closes his eyes and lets out a low moan; he couldn’t see Matsumoto’s anymore but his sure glides of blade, his fingertips grazing, his scent, his touches smother him immensely. Yet, distinct sharpness of the blade on his neck begins to scare him more now. He finds his heart beating faster. He can’t see Matsumoto’s face and his anxiety triples, that sharp and scary looking blade is going to graze his neck, a skin away from too many blood vessels, after all.

“Relax,” Matsumoto whispers softly from his side, “I will take care of you.”

The reassurance is enough to calm his nervousness. Nervousness seeps through him while the thrill lingers; his heart still steadies, fast but steady.

“Just relax.”

In his mind, Sho tries to bring the vivid images of Matsumoto’s centimeter away from his, those lips, that smirk, that mole, whispering the words softly. Soft fingertips constantly flitter around Sho’s temple, forehead, jaw, his hot skin as Matsumoto finishes shaving his neck clean within minutes.

He senses Matsumoto walking away but his breathing finally calms. He wants to keep his eyes closed, to stay in this state of comfort longer, enveloped in comfortable lull with his skin moist and clean.

Matsumoto comes back with another set of cool towels, leaning over him again. “I’m going to put these towel now,” he informs Sho in low voice.

A whimper escapes Sho’s lips and he could hear those soft giggles drifted away while coolness soaks into his now clean-shaven face. The towels stay for another minute. Then when they were lifted, Sho opens his eyes and blinks several time, the ceiling comes into view again. Sho turns slightly and from the corner of his eyes, he catches the sight of Matsumoto propping the towel aside, reaching for a large white balm jar When Matsumoto turns back, Sho is already staring at the ceiling again, waiting.

“This is a new product,” Matsumoto says as he uncaps the jar, taking a liberal amount of aloe balm onto his hand. “And this may tingle a bit.”

Sho swallows his gasp when Matsumoto leans forward from above his head. He could feel the brush of Matsumoto’s breath when the ceiling is completely blocked by the plane of Matsumoto’s forehead, his falling fringe. He has no choice but to direct his gaze to those eyes, receiving a smile and finds himself grinning.

Matsumoto then gently rubs his cheeks, tapping lightly and cupping his face to generously apply the soothing fragrant balm on his smooth face. He reaches to get another generous amount; his fingers then rhythmically daubs Sho’s chin, the heel of his hands brush Sho’s temples.

Matsumoto's eyes stare into his, searching for something, something that Sho doesn’t know, something that Sho hopes to heaven he has. Sho stares back, offering the only thing he could at the moment, himself.

His mouth slightly parts open.

Matsumoto licks his lips, his eyes turn warm and amused before he says, “You were loud just now, Sho-san.”

Sho blushes; the rush of his blood dissents as a part of them rising to his cheek, making his face hot even now Matsumoto’s hands were not on his face anymore and another part of them goes south from the dizzying sensation. He didn’t quite expect for Matsumoto to remember his name, to have his name rolled out Matsumoto’s lips in such an attractive hiss.

.

Just like the last time, Matsumoto walks him to the door. “Thank you for coming to the shop today,” Matsumoto says, stepping closer and bowing politely.

Sho nods; he can still feel the rush, the refreshed feeling after shaving and the great time he had today. Waiting for two weeks has been a good decision. He was throwing a satisfied grin back at Matsumoto and was trying to come up with another appointment when Matsumoto steps even closer.

They stands eye to eye, Matsumoto staring fixedly few centimeters from his flushed face. Sho’s heart is beating faster by the second. He literarily stands in awe wondering about the reason, the timing of this unexpected development, the response he should give, but mostly about the breathtaking rush he feels inside. When Matsumoto’s hand slowly reaches for Sho’s cheek, he longs to close his eyes, he doesn’t want to miss a thing, he wants to stare back to that piercing eyes, at that very moment, he wants everything.

“Yes?” Sho nearly whimpered.

Matsumoto’s fingers brush his cheekbone and Sho instinctively closes his eyes. He waits for another touch, swallowing hard, and feels a soft puff just under his eyes.

“There you go,” Jun says, waking Sho’s from his temporary haze and stepping back.

"Yes?” Sho asks again, opening his eyes, as he finds Matsumoto has stepped back and now they are not as close as they were. He throws a questioning stare at Matsumoto and only receives a crooked smile as an answer.

“There was a falling eye lashes under your right eye,” Matsumoto explains, as if it was nothing, as if he doesn’t just blow air into Sho’s face, as if those lips didn't hover so close to Sho’s face, as if Sho didn’t swoon holding his breath, as if all the blood wasn’t starting to rush south in anticipation just now.

“Really?”

Matsumoto nods, his smile grows wider at Sho’s question. “It’s gone now. I took care of it. Of you.”

 

/7/

That night, they have to carry drunk Jun home and deal with him as he decides to glomp on Aiba’s back. Ohno also has to stop him from singing _Gin Gira Gin ni Sarigenaku_.

“He’s happy, right?”

“I think so,” Ohno says, “if he’s not, he’d have been singing _Kita no Kuni Kara_ all night.

“Ugh. That’d be terrible.”

“We simply can’t have that,” Nino says, “both him being unhappy and him singing _Kita no Kuni Kara_.”

 

/8/

A month, another month, then few more other months later, Aiba is beginning to worry, accusing Nino for a foul plan and partially blaming himself for sending Sho’s away to Kyuushu all these months when they could clearly see Jun growing gradually gloomy by the day.

“He should’ve asked for his number if he wants to see him again that much.”

“Nino, that’s not nice of you. We need to interfere!” Aiba reasons. “I don’t even know why I listened to you and sent Sho-chan for an intensive work trip down there.”

“No.”

Aiba turns to Ohno for support only to find the man holding his hands up in surrender. He sighs in defeat, Nino could be very persuasive and it’s Jun that they are talking about; but, he’s the boss, he sure could do something, something small, very small.

.

Matsumoto continues to light the citrus candles on during weekdays.

 

/9/

One fine Sunday, Sho finally decides to visit the shop now that his twisted fringe starting to pick his eyes, his neck itchy from the prickly juts of hair and he’s in Tokyo for a gracious week off.

It wasn’t entirely by choice though, but no one’s to blame at this point; he couldn’t possibly able to afford the price on monthly basis after all. He has been thinking about his short-lived excitement. It was a very special circumstance to begin with, he reasons, and as it grows harder to be consistent with more special circumstances, with him being away and Matsumoto being too attractive, he should be grateful to be away and not giving into temptation. In other word, he probably needs the time away to think. Now he has had plenty of time thinking, perhaps too much time, considering his chance, wondering what would have happened if he kept on visiting the shop, and at the end accepting his reason that nothing would come out good out of the attraction. The price of the shop visits, literally and metaphorically, were not something Sho could simply deal with without giving out himself, or so he kept telling himself all these months.

All those thoughts were flown out of his mind by the sense of strange nostalgia that hits him the minute he enters the shop. It seems empty despite the ‘open’ sign, but the candles, the whiffs of the same citrus candles, greet him first. From his desk, Matsumoto’s head goes up from his reading fast and finds Sho. Then, an excited voice, a voice he hasn’t heard for a while. “Oh! Welcome!”

He beams instantly at Sho who can only offer a weak apologetic smile in return, feeling even more at fault, and he stays still at where he stands, just two steps from the door.

Sho has had a nagging concern that he would not be quite welcomed here. After all, he is the one who had to go on long trips, stop having proper day offs for the sake of an important project, doesn’t visit any more.

Matsumoto’s earnest welcome puts him at a bit of ease. Watching him circling his desk swiftly, walking toward him by the door, Sho wonders why he hasn’t visited sooner. It is simply amazing to see the man again who appears slightly different with his new haircut, or so Sho observes, some intricate style he couldn’t really comprehend, looking so damn fine.

Matsumoto stops short in front of him, face crunching to a frown. Sho’s worry returns; perhaps he has blown his chance after all. This was the result of him thinking too much, not wanting to try something he felt floating between them, not fighting hard enough to start something solid.

“Why?” Matsumoto asks him curtly, still with hints of politeness yet also with unfamiliar flare of, what Sho instantly deduce as, mild annoyance flashes in his questioning eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sho instinctively tries for apology. It was going to be hard to explain his stupid reasoning but once he apologized perhaps Matsumoto would give him a chance to explain.

“Why can’t you have only me touching your hair?” Matsumoto closes their distance and reaches for the tips of Sho’s hair, taking a closer look, threading his finger to the ends of Sho’s hair.

Sho gaps in surprise. “Huh?”

“You. You let someone touch your hair?”

“Me?” Sho is completely dumbfounded.

Matsumoto sighs impatiently, tugging the ends of Sho’s hair in inspection. They are still standing by the door with a pressing matters to deal with.

“As you know we offer full service here” Matsumoto steps back before ceremoniously directing Sho toward a chair, “but for now why don’t we skip the chat and just get your hair cut?”

Sho could only nod and follow the direction. Wasn’t it just now he was ready with his train of lame excuses? And now Matsumoto was annoyed at him because he hacked his own hair? Does this mean he’s forgiven? Does this mean there was nothing to be forgiven, nothing to be worried about in the first place? Sho muffles an undignified giggle as Matsumoto dresses him with paper strips. He was so dumb, and stupid, but mostly dumb and stupid altogether. What was he thinking?

Efficiently Matsumoto washed Sho’s hair in silent. It doesn’t help that Sho seems to enjoy the experience, just like his first time, it makes him feeling even more at fault. The washing and setting up for a hair cut routine helps him to clear his mind and reflect on his initial outburst. He was startled at the taste of his own words; he has practically shouted at a costumer. It is indeed only Sho-san and the ungrateful man had had his hair cut but he’s still costumer.

It’s not that Matsumoto has a habit of shouting toward his costumers; he knows he owes Sho an apology and with apology soon is always better than later.

With the paper strips in place, Matsumoto brushes some hair out of Sho’s face, his mind racing to form a good approach for his apology, casually glancing up only to meet Sho watching his preparation with a hint of question reflected on his eyes.

“Just to clarify,” Sho begins, “you were shouting at me because I hacked my own hair?”

“You hacked your own hair? Sho-san, that was very rude of you! Don’t you know…” his response trails off—goddamn antics, Matsumoto curses himself. He wasn’t supposed to shout at the man again, he should’ve been apologizing.

But Sho doesn’t seem to mind, Clearing his dry throat, he asks softly, “Did you do your costumer like this? I mean, treat them, not _do_ them.”

He closes his eyes as he waited for a response, daring himself to hope for a good answer.

“It was a mistake to say all that out loud.”

“It’s fine,” Sho says. He wasn’t exactly asking for an apology but more for answer. “But now you need to answer my question since you’ve brought the topic up.”

“I’m—” realizing that he has just shouted at a costumer, his favorite costumer, Matsumoto can’t say much. “I’m sorry.”

It takes a great deal of squirming but Sho manages to take his hand from under the paper strip and reaches for Matsumoto’s hand on his jaw. “And I’m also sorry. I would never hack my hair again as long as you are here. Giving me me a haircut. Or just here. Or whatever you want, I’m open to suggestion.”

They stare into each other eyes, searching for answers to meet more questions, for confidence to meet equal hesitation, for what they can offer each other to only meet themselves.

Matsumoto could feel Sho’s cool and sweaty palm covering on the back of his hand. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who is nervous.

He turns his palm up, sharing his own sweaty palm and making his offer. “So, I’m going to this place tonight, a bar with several of my friends. What do you say to grab something to drink, something to eat. Or we can just be there? For a start?”

“Yes,” Sho’s face blooms into a wide smile as he nods and accepts the offer.

“Now, can we start with the haircut part?”

“Oh, we haven’t?”

“We haven’t.”

 

/10/

“Oh my god, are those a pair look you both sporting? A pair style? A pair hairstyle? I don’t even know what kids called this stunt these days. A pair?” Nino manages to ask before he snorts a rude snort, followed by howls of loud delighted laugh.

.


End file.
